Requiem
by whirleeq
Summary: Ozai is dead, and Zuko and Katara are left stranded after a tragic battle. Can they come to terms with themselves and each other? First Person Future fic, Zutara, hints of Kataang, epilogue added 92107. COMPLETE!
1. Requiem for Silence

Disclaimer: Avatar is not mine; wish it was!

_**Requiem:**__ noun_  
**1** a mass for the dead  
**2 a** a solemn chant (as a dirge) for the repose of the dead **b** something that resembles such a solemn chant  
**3 a** a musical setting of the mass for the dead **b** a musical composition in honor of the dead

A/N: This will be a dark, disturbing fic, taking place several years in the future. Ozai is dead by Aang's hands, yet the war is not at all over.

This will all be in first person POV. Angst and character deaths.

* * *

It is dark, but in the darkness I can distinctly detect the acrid smell of burnt flesh. It is a scent that I know well. 

My first thought is that I am dead. Dead by the hands of the Avatar himself, just like my father before me, and now I am in some sort of hell created just for me. It would be no less than I deserved, for my failure to restore the fire nation to the glory it had known under my father's rule.

_'I have failed you, father. I have failed to avenge you, and now… now I am in hell.' _

"Lord Zuko."

Someone is calling me. The voice is soft, feminine and familiar. It belongs to someone I know, but I can't find it in myself to care very much. My throat is parched and my body is wracked with pain. I can barely feel my arms at all and when I do finally open my eyes, it is with great effort. It is still dark and all I can see is a large shadow hovering over me surrounded by a very bright light. Too bright – it burns and I close my eyes tightly in an attempt to block it out.

There is both a cough and then a sputter…and it takes me a moment to realize that the sounds come from me.

"Here… drink."

That voice again.

A soft, cool hand gently cups the back of my head and lifts. I open my mouth to protest, but instead feel a cool, smooth liquid against my lips. Reflexively, I lap at it eagerly, painfully raising a hand to grasp the arm that is holding the canteen to my lips. The skin under my fingers is smooth and pliant, and for the fist time I wonder if I may have survived the battle after all. Surely, not a single denizen of hell would offer me such comforts.

It hurts to move. I can't feel my legs at all and my entire body is aching, yet somewhere from within I find the strength to scoot backwards and sit up, just a bit. My senses are immediately assaulted by the scent of another –of flowers and milk, and I once again force my eyes open so that I can take in my surroundings. My eyes sting and it is tempting to close them, but this time I am more alert and able to fight the temptation off.

It takes a few minutes for my eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight and to focus, and when they do, I am instantly on guard.

It is _her_.

That rogue water bender – consort of the Avatar. She protectively cradles an infant against her chest; one old enough to hold up its head, but too young to crawl or walk.

I had heard rumors that the Avatar had fathered a child, but had yet to see for myself.

Hypocritical, self-righteous monk can't even follow his own teachings. Further proof that he is only human – something I have known for many years, and yet the world looks upon him as if he's a savior – no, even more than that.

The world looks to him as if he is a god.

I _hate_ him… so much so that the bile rises in my throat, forcing me to turn my head to the side in order to spit it out.

The water bender remains poised above me, a faraway look in her eyes. In her arms, the infant starts to wail, but she does not even seem to notice.

Why is she here? Why am _I_ here?

And, most importantly…

"Where is the Avatar?"

My voice is broken, hoarse. I frown and look down on myself as best as I can. The waves and the storm have done much to tear my clothes, exposing my legs to the elements. There are several small lacerations on each leg, all covered in gritty sand. They look painful and yet, I cannot feel the sting of the injuries.

She doesn't answer. Wearily I turn my head, looking at her in profile. Why doesn't she attack me? If I were in her position, I wouldn't hesitate. As much as I hate to admit it, I'm vulnerable at the moment. Doesn't she know that she could end this… right now… for her side?

"Woman, where are we?"

She turns her head and frowns. There is a large cut on her right cheek, and her clothes are just as ratted as mine. She moves slowly, as if injured in several places, while tightly holding the bundle of ragged cloth that holds her child against her chest. Her footfalls are soft upon the sand, and I can hear each one, along with the crashing of the waves upon the shore.

She tosses her canteen to me.

"Drink… you need to drink…"

She kneels by my side. Against her chest, the infant that she holds cries softly.

I watch curiously as she examines my legs intently for a moment before tearing a bit of fabric off of her already ruined robes. Her eyes are deadened; unreadable as she then uses the piece of fabric to wipe some of the grit and sand out of the laceration on my legs. The whole situation is so surreal that I am struck speechless for a moment.

"What – what are you doing?"

She does not answer me. For a moment a flash of anger goes through me at this – I am not used to being ignored – but then again, I am not used to being field dressed by an enemy, either.

I drink from the canteen while warily watching her. It is hard to swallow, but I manage to get some of the water down my throat, although a good portion of it still dribbles down the sides of my face and disappears into the sand beneath me.

"Hand me the canteen."

Bemused and still out of sorts, I comply. Only after the canteen is in her hand do I realize that I may have made a tactical error. But she does not use the water in the canteen against me. Instead, she merely pours it over the large cut on my leg, which has the effect of washing the rest of the grit and sand out of the wound.

"We'll have to boil some water so that we can treat this wound. If it gets infected, you could lose the leg. And I'll have to treat your burns as well."

The tone of her voice is flat and utterly calm. I have only known this water bender through our battles, but that gives me enough knowledge of her to know that something is terribly wrong. She should be pressing her advantage right now and restraining me – not treating my wounds.

Maybe I am in hell, after all. In hell with a water bender who has apparently lost her mind along with the wailing child of an Avatar.

"Will you shut that child up?"

Crude. I know it is crude, but I don't care. At this point, I'm trying to antagonize her. I need to get a reaction from her that makes sense.

But she simply shifts the child from one arm to the other, ignoring the barb.

"Where are we? Where are my men? Where is the Avatar?"

The strong light of the sun casts shadows across her face… her eyes are drawn and haunted, her pupils wide. I watch curiously as she stands and prepares to leave.

"I saw some aloe plants further up the beach. I will be right back."

"Hey! You didn't answer any of my questions! What are we doing here?"

Her eyes meet mine briefly, before looking away. I furrow my brows, attempting to wrack my mind to remember exactly what happened… how I got here, wherever here was, and why I was being tended to by the Avatar's lover… but the only thing that comes to me are flashes… vague, disconnected flashes… of a storm, of my ship, of screams… of blood…

But not _my_ blood…

_There was a battle. _

My ship… did my ship go down?

_The Avatar's eyes had been an electric blue. _

Furious at the thought that he may have bested me once again, I try to kindle the flame within me, if only to release it through my hands and into the ground. It is something that I usually do when frustrated, and it generally helps calm me down.

But there is no response. My fire… is gone. I can't find the flame and a jolt of sheer panic goes through me.

I can't _bend_.

What had _happened_?

The water bender is motionless, looking out to the sea. There is a tear on her right cheek and I follow the path of it with my eyes as it slowly trails over her dark skin before falling down to the beach and disappearing into the sand, right next to her canteen.

The canteen. With it, she could have used the water inside to bind me. She could have also used the water inside to heal me – and herself, for that matter. I've seen her do both.

I won't admit my own weakness to her, but… could it be that she has lot the ability to bend as well?

If only I could remember… _what the hell happened?_

I shift, ignoring the pain radiating through my body as I do so and I grab the canteen, hastily bringing it to my lips and drawing the last few precious drops from it.

"Woman, I demand that you tell me what happened. _Now_."

She clears her throat. The baby in her arms makes a gurgling sound and she shifts the child, doing something with her hands to adjust what remains of her clothing in order to put the child to her breast. She does so swiftly and naturally, taking a deep, hesitant breath.

"I don't think that you should try to move. I'll be back."

Her voice is soft, toneless, as if she were nothing but a walking corpse herself.

And when she walks away, this time I don't try to stop her.

* * *

_end part I _


	2. Requiem for Tears

A/N: Thanks for the reviews... I was really not expecting this story to get much love, since it is very depressing and not at all romantic (although there will be some romantic elements). This chapter is even more depressing than the last one... but after this, it will perk up a bit (admittedly, not much.) :).

* * *

Several hours have passed, and yet she has not returned. I can't say that it is unexpected. I have no doubt that she found a way back to her people and thought nothing of leaving me injured and alone. 

We are well within the Avatar's territory, given that the last I remember we were somewhere amongst the small islands surrounding Kyoshii. It isn't any stretch of the imagination to come to the conclusion that she ran into one of her barbarian friends, is now safe, and hasn't given any further thought to my own predicament.

It is what I would do, were our situations reversed.

The sun is starting to disappear beneath the horizon. The tide has come in and the winds have begun to pick up. Also, I am nearly positive that I just felt a small splash of water on my face.

It will be dark soon, and another storm is coming. Injured or not, I must get up and find shelter. It hurts to move my leg – so much so that I bite back a groan, just in case that water tribe peasant is within ear shot – yet, I somehow manage to get to my feet, finding that I can walk unaided if I favor the left side.

I find myself dragging my leg somewhat anyway; each step a monumental effort, as I take off in the opposite direction that the water bender left in.

Another hour passes; perhaps even two. By now, it is only my stubbornness that keeps me on my feet. In walking on the beach, I have seen nothing that could possibly pass for any sign of civilization, giving strength to my belief that we have somehow – and very unluckily – found ourselves on one of the few islands that still remained unpopulated. But I did find a small, rushing, fresh water stream just inside of the small forest that begins where the beach ends, and make a mental note of its location.

As for shelter, I have not yet found anything but the canopy of the trees themselves. Still, that is better than staying out in the open, were it to rain again. But definately not a solution, should I find myself here for a long period of time -- which shouldn't happen. No doubt there are several ships in the vicinity searching for me even now. But for now, I should look and see if there is a cave or something else inland that will serve to keep me warm and dry.

Of course, searching for shelter would be much easier if my leg didn't hurt quite so much.

Again, I curse the girl under my breath for abandoning me. And so, it is somehow not surprising that as soon as I decide to abandon the beach and make for the trees, I finally catch sight of the water bender in front of me. Seeing her confirms that we are indeed stranded on an island, and also that it is not a very large one.

She is bent over something – I can't tell exactly what – and her shoulders are rising and falling repeatedly. Her child has been carelessly laid by her side upon a swatch of clothing. The infant's cries are loud and piercing, and yet the water bender pays no mind at all to the child, remaining intent upon the object before her.

It is only when she notices my presence and turns slightly to meet my eyes that I am able to look past her and at what is lying on the sandy ground.

It is a body.

But not just any body.

It is_ his _body.

_I will never be able to avenge you, father.  
_  
It is the first thought that occurs to me upon seeing him burned, battered and lifeless – an obvious victim of the elements.

The irony is not lost on me.

I can do nothing but stare. In death, the Avatar seems so frail - how could he have been so very strong?

And as I stand above him, flashes of the battle come to me unbidden.

_The Avatar drew power from the sky itself. _

Quietly I approach, nothing that the water bender does not even so much as flinch as I do so. The first thing I see are the burns – several of them. They are nothing like the burns one suffers from fire.

There is one on his right arm; a neat circle. The burn goes straight through his battered clothes and into his flesh. Casually, I kneel down beside him and turn the arm over, where there is a nearly identical circular burn on the opposite side.

_An exit wound. _

There are four other such lacerations that I can see; one through his neck, two through his legs and one through his chest – all of them from lightening.

Just one would have been enough to kill him, and yet I can remember now that he did not die right away.

We had all summoned the storm. We were all at fault. Myself, my crew, the water bender, the Avatar...  
there had been so much pure energy that the seas and skies had raged against us all. I realize now that the boy had drawn the storm into himself in an attempt to control it, but he had been weary and distracted.

The infant's cries grow louder. To my right, the water bender remains motionless, as if in a trance.

_How did we get here? _

I lost my ship in the storm, yet not my life. The girl and her brat should have fallen victim too – and there is no way that the Avatar would have survived long enough to bring them to safety.

And yet, he had. He had brought them to this island, somehow.

Myself as well, I realize.

_You would die a martyr, you bastard monk – wouldn't you? _

I should feel relieved. I should be happy that my adversary – the greatest threat to the fire nation – is dead at my feet. Yet, I look at his body and feel only anger.

And if that baby doesn't _shut up... _

"Get up." I say, nudging the water bender with my foot.. "Get _up_, girl. Get up and take care of your child. There is nothing that you can do here."

Bloodshot blue eyes turn to glare at me and for just a moment, a hint of rage passes over the water bender's face before it is blank again.

For a brief moment, she looks _alive_.

But she can't hide it now, because I've seen it. I know that her formidable spirit is still lurking inside that shell. I also know that until someone comes for us, I will need her help to survive. And if it takes provoking her in order to force her to function, than so be it.

Ignoring my injured leg as much as possible, I reach down and grab the collar of the dead monk's shirt. His body is heavy and solid; leading me to believe that he's been dead at least a day. It will be an effort to drag him away from the beach and towards the trees, especially with my injury, but I will somehow manage.

I do not take more than three steps before the water bender _wails_.

"What – what are you doing? No… No! Let him go, you bastard! _Leave him be!"_

Her blue eyes are lit with rage now, and she is standing – the infant no longer neglected but held protectively against her chest.

"What, so his body can decompose on the beach, attracting disease ridden scavengers? I think not."

Four more steps. How could someone so lean in life be so heavy in death?

"LET HIM GO, OR SO HELP ME LA, _I WILL KILL YOU_."

Three more steps and I am breathing heavy. The line of trees is in view.

Behind me, I hear the water bender shriek.

"What… WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? The water… I can't…"

Three more steps. My leg feels as if it is on fire.

"No! Please, I beg you. This is not right – he… he should be put to rest at sea, as is proper. This… is not right. Please."

She is crying, sobbing now and I pause, turning to look at her.

_"Please…" _She cries, pleading with me now. She has fallen to her knees and holds her baby to her chest as if the child is her only lifeline.

The tree line is much closer, and I can already see several scattered branches and rocks that could be used to make a make-shift grave and sigh to myself. It would be much more civilized to simply burn the body – even the Avatar doesn't deserve to have his mortal shell placed shallowly into the ground like an earth nation peasant – but without being able to bend, it is not possible. Putting his body in the ground was the only other alternative, and yet the water bender is shaking with horror at the very suggestion.

I cannot even begin to imagine why she wants me to drag his body back to the water, and I tell her so.

"If I bring him to the water, the waves will only deposit him elsewhere."

She stumbles forward and gently grasps my arm with her free hand. The touch gives me an uncomfortable feeling, and I look down at her hand on my arm, finding the sight foreign and disturbing.

"Please, Zuko."

No one, not a single person has used my name without an honorific in years – not even Uncle (may Agni watch over his soul) has ever called me by my given name alone. I was always 'nephew', or 'Prince Zuko'.

If we were in the fire nation, such disrespect would warrant her death.

But now, in this spirit forsaken place, I nod wearily. She gives me a brief look of gratitude before it too, is gone.

Together, we drag the inert body of the Avatar towards the unforgiving sea, ignoring the cold sting of the rain on our backs as above us, the sky weeps in mourning.

* * *

_end part II_


	3. Requiem for Truth

A/N: Sorry for the very long wait on this... what can I say, it is hockey season ;).

* * *

It is cold. But then again, I am used to the cold. At any rate, I am too numb to even feel it and probably wouldn't notice it at all, if it were not for Tehya's cries. 

Tehya… a water tribe name, and the one that Aang gave her. It means 'precious one'.

Slowly I reach for her and draw her against my chest. Her cries die down to a whimper almost immediately as she seeks to nurse from me. This is all that I can give her of myself right now, and I know more than anyone that it is far from enough.

Zuko sits across from me in the haphazard shelter we've erected from the fallen branches and dead palms that we have gathered from this forsaken place over the past several weeks. We have learned to cooperate only as much as needed for survival, since both of us have been stripped of our bending abilities. It is a fitting penance, I think, for the gods to give us since we are both sinners; each of us having failed our gods and ancestors in our own ways.

Teyha is done now and she pulls away, unsatisfied and whimpering. There is not enough milk for her.

There is never enough. I wish I could comfort her in some other way, but I can't.

Zuko glares at me, yet says nothing, even as he gathers the child into his own arms and rocks her in a way that I should, but cannot bring myself to do so. Holding her like that only makes the pain worse.

Sometimes – and I know this is horrible – I wish I hadn't had her. With her crying, needing, wanting to nurse, I am trapped; responsible for another life, and therefore unable to get to the well overdue business of finding the nearest hole to crawl into and die. The _guilt_ that I feel is overwhelming. Guilt for surviving when everyone I know and love is dead or gone.

"It's not her fault, you know."

Zuko. How I wish that he wasn't here, sitting across from me, my enemy who has somehow become my conscience.

"I don't know much about babies or children, but I know that they need the love of their parents."

The look he gives me is both contemptuous and judgmental, but I don't care. What would he know of love anyway, and why would he care?

I hate him. I hate his judgmental looks and wish fervently that he would just leave us, and make his own way on this island, even as I know that we need him to make the fire; to hunt and to protect us. He keeps us alive, and I hate him for that too.

"Hold your child, Katara."

Tehya is thrust into my arms. I turn and glare at him – can't he see that I am immune to her cries?

She quiets instantly and smiles at me; her eyes wide and grey even as her belly rumbles in hunger. For an instant she looks so much like her father that I have to turn my head to the side, my own stomach clenching with guilt.

Zuko looks at me intently. Peripherally, I can see his eyes widen minutely as if he has just come to an understanding before they harden slightly and he grabs me by the shoulder, forcing me to look at him.

"So, are you just going to ignore her for the rest of your life, forcing those around you to fill your shoes? Eventually, she'll come to despise you for this. But you know this already, don't you? You know, and even welcome it. You think you deserve it… you think you deserve it because you never loved her father the way that he loved you."

Stunned, I turn and face him. His face is hard and his lips are tilted just slightly in an expression of triumph – that same expression that he gave me many years ago when we fought over Aang by the sacred pool, while his soul traversed the realm of the spirits. I failed him then, and many time since.

The truth of Zuko's words cut me to the core. Reflexively, I slap him, hard; but the action does not erase the words that have settled between us, sharp as any arrow and leveled directly at my heart.

"Damn you…" I say, wanting to deny, knowing that I can't. "You have no right at all to speak to me about him, nor about my child. You, who have caused so much pain by perpetrating a war that has not only cost the lives of so very many, but also kept the people of three nations perpetually impoverished. It was in your power to make peace, you know, when your father died. And yet, you didn't. You chose to continue the war, just so that you could avenge your tyrant father who never loved you, so don't you dare speak to me as if you are so damned righteous!"

It was the most that I have said in weeks.

To my satisfaction, Zuko recoils from me as if I slapped him again, but this time with the force of ten men. He looks at me with his eyes burning with hatred, his chest rising and falling as he tries to regain control of his breathing. I am struggling myself, as the adrenaline rushes through my veins. I want nothing so much as to kill him, and yet I feel so very _alive_.

In my arms, Tehya starts to cry again. The sound of it pierces the deafening silence between us.

After a moment Zuko clears his throat and looks away ashamed, as if just realizing he was about to strike a woman holding a baby. He mutters something about hunting then thankfully leaves, leaving Tehya and I alone under the canopy of our haphazardly constructed shelter.

Mercifully, the excitement proves to be too much for Tehya and she falls asleep in my arms. I lay her down on a swatch of clothing – not enough to keep her warm, but it is all that can be spared – and lay down myself, feeling the tears come unbidden to my eyes.

It isn't long before I begin to weep in earnest.

Damn Zuko. Damn him for saying what I couldn't even admit to myself.

Silently, I remember when Tehya was conceived. It was an accident – unintentional.

I had only meant to comfort him.

The death of Bumi had been too much for him to handle – he had been distraught, inconsolable, and I had been his only lifeline. He came into my tent that night, shivering and silently weeping – broken, and just barely a man. It was all I could do to keep his avatar spirit from breaking free. I had wrapped my arms around him in an attempt to keep him warm, to console him. And when he reached for me and started to kiss me, desperately and needy, I hadn't had the heart or the strength to turn him away that night, nor any other night thereafter that he came to me with such powerful love and need in those haunted grey eyes.

But though I gave him my body, I never quite gave him my heart. It was too hard for me to divorce the image of him as a child from my mind, even though he had so obviously become a man. And because of my foolishness, I never realized how much I actually did love him until we cast his body out to sea.

_'Forgive me, Aang.' _

My eyes are reddened and sore from crying and I suddenly feel drained of all emotion. I curl myself into a ball around Tehya, warming her the best I can with my own body, yet despite my position and my fatigue, sleep evades me.

It is bitter cold, and for the first time in weeks, I can feel it.

Several hours pass before Zuko finally returns, some small animal draped over his shoulder. He looks at me silently before taking his kill out of the shelter – presumably to skin and drain of blood – and returns some time thereafter. He says nothing at all to me, and I am glad.

Because I hate him.

Yet when I feel him lie down next to me and drape his arm around us both, providing much welcome heat, I do not push him away.

* * *

_end part III_


	4. Requiem for Pride

A/N: I know I said that this was initially going to be three or four parts, but apparently brevity is not something that I'm good at. This will go one for at least three or four more parts, or until the story is told. So much for limits…

At any rate, things start to get interesing... :)

* * *

She's gone once again, and this time she has been gone for hours. 

I suppose I should be happy that she's not here, since when she is here she does nothing but mope in silence, ignoring her child, forcing me to pay attention to the little girl, if only to keep her from crying.

Funny how I don't mind this as much as I probably should; it's just that I can't help but empathize with Tehya, in spite of her parentage. She is just another victim, another casualty of war. And so I do what I can. At the very least, rocking the child in my arms helps pass the time – and at least she is grateful for the things that I do for her, unlike her mother.

Still, being left alone to entertain an infant for four hours is not my idea of fun. Under my breath I curse the water bender, even as her child giggles at the sudden change of expression on my face.

The tension between us has only been growing since our confrontation a week or so ago. She hates me, I know it, but I don't care. I said to myself when I first realized our predicament that I would provoke her into responding if necessary, and so far it seems to be the only effective way of inciting any type of response from her at all. When she is angry, she is vibrant and strong; a warrior. She is my adversary and her spark ignites my own. Yet, all too soon, her anger fades and she falls back into a depression caused by the weight of her own guilt and made even worse by her responsibility to the innocent child I hold in my arms.

I hear a soft sound, and turn to see if Katara has returned. Tehya's head turns slightly too, her eyes filled with a glint of hope. The sound turns out to be nothing but the wind, and the spark of hope in Tehya's eyes withers and dies.

"You'll have to learn to live with it, kid." I say under my breath. "No one wanted me either."

The baby turns and smiles at me, her grey eyes bright and blissfully ignorant of the long, hard road fate obviously has in store for her, this child of my adversary.

The time stretches on, and my irritation only grows. For a moment, I consider going to look for her myself. It has to be five hours now -- quite a long time for her to be gone. The island isn't very big, and the herbs she wanted to gather aren't very far. But the child is sleeping in my arms, and I am hesitant to disturb her; she receives little peace and even less comfort.

Again, I curse under my breath.

If only I could bend, then I could set of a signal – a great column of fire into the sky, one that could be seen from a great distance. I fantasize about this quite a bit; how my men would come in great ships, apologetic and ashamed for abandoning me in this forsaken place for so long with only a water tribe peasant and her infant child as company. They would grovel at my feet, begging my forgiveness, and I, in my infinite mercy, would eventually grant it – after a suitable flogging of course. I have been here quite a long time, after all.

I find this activity quite cathartic, even though I know it is only wishful thinking.

You see, I know all too well that there won't be any ships coming. Not today, not tomorrow – not any time soon, until that sanctimonious, smug little bastard decides to take pity on us all, and finds some other mortal child to inhabit.

We've been here maybe a month now, maybe longer, giving me quite a lot of time to think about the situation. Katara is adamant that we are being punished -- and it is true that we both carry our fair share of responsibility for the state of the world, as she so eloquently reminded me, but that is not the reason that we cannot bend.

You see, I've long since come to the realization that _no one _is able to bend.

No one at all.

And I don't even want to think about how my own nation is faring without firebenders, since everything from our military and navy vehicles to our farming and domestic machinery relies on this innate skill. Just the thought of such a thing is enough to give me nightmares for weeks.

We weren't here a week before I remembered something that my uncle once told me as a child – a conversation we had long ago, before the avatar returned from his hundred year absence and before my father gave me my scar. At the time, I was waiting for my father to come and take me down to the stables. He was going to teach me to ride the Komodo Rhinos…

But that is neither here nor there. What is important and relevant is the conversation we had while waiting for my father to show -- which he never did. I remember it vividly.

"Uncle, why is my father always late?"

My uncle looked and me and sighed, before smiling reassuringly.

"Your father has a lot of responsibility as the Fire Lord, Prince Zuko. He has both a nation and a throne to protect. Don't forget, Prince Zuko, that we are at war. He will come when he is able."

Angrily, I balled my fists together.

"That's not an answer, Uncle. The fire nation is the strongest nation in the world. The war is all but won. There is no one left who can threaten him!" I said these words with absolute conviction and no small amount of incredulity. My father was infallible in my eyes at that time.

It wasn't until I was older, bearing the scar that he gave me, that I realized how absolutely _wrong_ I was.

My uncle sighed and looked at me with his wise, far too insightful eyes and didn't speak for a few moments. When he did, all he said was this:

"There is the Avatar."

I scoffed.

"Nonsense. The Avatar is dead. Everyone knows that."

And Uncle Iroh responded by calling forth a perfectly round ball of fire in his open palm. It was a trick I had yet to learn and I was mesmerized. He stared at it for a few moments in quiet contemplation before he spoke again.

"Nay, Prince Zuko. You are wrong."

So I know better than she the cause of our strife and isolation. It is the Avatar, who even in death has found a way to mess with my life, instead of reincarnating into the next element in the cycle.

A nagging little voice inside my head reminds me that there are precious few waterbenders left, and even fewer of age to bear a child, possibly making it my own fault that it could be quite some time until a new Avatar is conceived, but I ignore that little voice and squash it down ruthlessly.

No, it is Aang's fault.

And if it were possible to exact vengeance against a ghost, I would not hesitate.

I _hate_ him.

In my arms, his child starts to whimper – perhaps in response to my darkening mood – and without even thinking about it, I hold her closer.

* * *

I have had quite enough. What's more – and to my own disgust – I am beginning to get concerned about the infuriating peasant girl. Grimacing to myself, I take to my feet, the baby cradled against my shoulder, and head out. There aren't that many places that she can be. 

It isn't long before I find her, and when I do, I have to catch my breath as an unwanted jolt of desire passes through me, and I turn my head in disgust.

She is lying alongside the bank of the stream, her dark hair free and splayed around her like an ebony curtain, her cinnamon skin glistening with droplets of her element. Her clothes are haphazardly strewn to one side as she stares at the canopy of the trees above her; naked and completely oblivious to my presence.

Sylphlike and melancholy, she sighs to her self, lost in contemplation and for once, she doesn't seem sad or even angry – just peaceful.

As quietly as I can, I make my way back to the shelter with her sleeping child in my arms.

It isn't much later that she finally returns.

Wordlessly, I hand her child to her, turning my head as she places the child to her breast, trying desperately to forget what said breast looked like on the bank of the stream, glistening with water.

I have been on this island far, far too long for the water bender to become attractive to me.

Instead, I busy myself with the firepit, just outside the shelter. It is crude, starting a fire with sticks, and time consuming, but such mundane activity takes my mind off of her and the way she looked…

Lithe, supple... _beautiful…_

Okay, she is desirable. I am only a man, I can admit that much to myself. But she is still an obnoxious peasant whose mental state is circumspect, and the sooner we get off this island, the better.

* * *

_End part IV_


	5. Requiem for Solitude

A/N: Sigh What can I say, it's been a busy winter. So sorry for the long absence! Anyway, I'm also working on an original novel... but took a break from that to update this. It's not long, but pivitol :)

* * *

It has been at least two months since we have been on this island. Tehya is now starting to crawl, and to my shame it is not me that she crawls to. She has bonded with Zuko in a way that is unfathomable to me. What is even more unfathomable to me is the fact that he has bonded with her as well. He is almost _fatherly_ to her at times. As if he genuinely cares for her. 

It should comfort me that he makes her happy, but it doesn't. It only reiterates my absolute failure as a mother. Aang would be absolutely appalled...

Aang. Just thinking of him chokes me up so much that I can't even breathe. Why did this have to happen? Why him? Why now? He was young, so very young. So full of life and love and everything.

I miss him so much that sometimes I just want to curl into a ball and die. It is impossible, living with out him. Sometimes I can't even breathe...

I loved him so very much. And the regret that I feel over never telling him so is huge.

I decide that I need to take a walk, to clear my head. We are running low on fresh water, after all, and it is not like I can summon what I need from the sea. Stretching my legs with a groan, I exit our little shelter made of palm fronds and sun baked mud bricks, and look towards the sea.

Zuko is sitting on the beach, shirtless and tan, looking perfectly content to be there. Tehya is in his lap, playing with the sand and laughing to herself.

The image tugs at my heartstrings fiercely, and I have to remind myself that Zuko can not be trusted.

I clear my throat as I approach them. Zuko turns his head slightly, his golden eyes twinkling with mirth. For a second I wonder what is so funny.

But then I see the designs in the sand. Three stick figures traced into the sand, obviously representing the three of them. And Teyha was using her finger to poke holes in all of the heads.

"Already showing signs of a true soldier..." Zuko said with a smile.

I smile too, a little disarmed at the sight of the two of them doing something so mundane, so ordinary as playing in the sand. He loves her, I realize. There is no pretense at all, here. His bond with her is sincere and beautiful and one that I wish I had with her myself. It should be me in the sand with her, playing with her, pushing her fair curly wisps of hair out of her face. It should be me, but it isn't.

It is Zuko who is parenting her, and, to Teyha, I am a stranger.

"Do you need something, Katara?" Zuko asks. "Are you hungry? I can gather some crabs... they're all around right now, now that the tide is coming in."

"Kwabs." Tehya mumbles. Zuko beams at her. "That's right, Tehya. Crabs."

I turn my head sharply and glare at him. "When did she start that?"

"Start what?"

"You know what... the talking. When did she start?"  
"About a week ago," was all that Zuko said in return, but the look he gave me spoke volumes.

_You would have known this if you paid any attention to her at all_, it seemed to say.

I shrug it off. I don't need to overload myself with more guilt. I know that I need to make a change, and I make a silent vow to myself that I will spend more time with Tehya. She is not the one at fault for the awful state my life is currently in.

"I'm not hungry," I say, after a moment. "I just wanted to let you know that I'm going to get water."

Zuko grunts in response, his attention already off me and back on the baby. There is a few moments of silence between us and then I clear my throat.

"Do you want to come with me?"

I blurt out, feeling suddenly warm in the face and neck. I didn't mean to ask him to come, it just sorta slipped out.

Zuko looks surprised for a moment, before yawning and getting awkwardly to his feet. He limps over to me, the injury on his leg not having healed completely yet and still affecting him. He hands Tehya over to me, and I try very hard to ignore her reaching out for him once she is settled in my arms.

And then he smiles at me, briefly, the sun casting a glint over his tanned body.

I begin to feel even more flustered for whatever reason, and turn my head toward the sea.

If he notices my nervousness, he doesn't show it, which I'm grateful for. But I am beginning to think inviting him to come with me is a bad idea.

"Let's go," he says and squeezes my arm briefly, causing me to flush again.

_Yep, definitely, a Very Bad Idea._

* * *

_End part V_


	6. Requiem for Innocence

A/N: Wow... such lovely praise... I'm thrilled :). Thank you! SR: I'm not much of a Zutara shipper myself. My OTP is Kataang, but sometimes the muse has other ideas ;).

* * *

I don't know when it happened, or why, but I am at peace with myself. It is a strange feeling, to be perfectly content. And one that I have never felt before, so it took a bit of time for me to recognize it for what it was. 

All my life, I have been chasing something, be it my father's approval, the Avatar, the Earth King...

...vengeance, even...

Something has always kept me focused, unwilling or unable to examine myself.

I wish Uncle were alive to see me now, alone on a beach, watching the sun set and playing with the child of my former adversary as if she were my own. It would have brought him great peace. Perhaps, somewhere in the spirit world, he is watching.

He was always telling me to slow down, that I was too focused on what was unimportant, and not focused enough on what was. I had thought him a fool, and yet I was the one who was foolish.

I understand him so much more now.

I find myself thinking about him frequently. He taught me how to survive, and for that, I'm grateful. I find myself longing for the time when it was just the two of us, travelling through the earth kingdom, looking for the Avatar and trying to avoid Azula. At least then I had someone to talk to, even if I didn't appreciate it at the time.

What conversation I have with Katara is limited to what is necessary to survive. Not like I expect her to talk to me. We are, after all, on opposite sides of an age-old conflict. And yet, here in this isolated place, we are free of that. Free from war, from violence, from hate... It is... comforting. Would that I could some day bring this to my people.

But I have to laugh to myself at the thought. My people wouldn't know what to do with themselves without the war. So much of our economy is driven by the war. And yet, we have spent so much of our time, energy and resources on military technology, that our homes and hospitals are in dire need of updates and repairs.

It is a situation that I would like to remedy. And one that I am sure Azula has no interest in at all.

Azula. The thought of her in control in my absence is chilling. The only comfort I have is knowing that she can't bend, and for that matter, neither can any member of the military. So hopefully she hasn't launched any expensive and costly crusades against the rebellion. Without bending, the military would have to rely on hand to hand combat, and since the rebels excel at guerrilla style warfare, the resulting casualties would be many.

Tehya suddenly starts to cry, pulling me out of my reverie. She is no doubt hungry, since Katara has been gone now for several hours. Katara has the annoying habit of disappearing without even a word as to where she is going and when she is coming back. She can't be far, since you could walk around the entire beach in just over on hour, but the vegetation in the center of the island is wild and thick, so there are many places to hide.

It's just as well, I suppose, since Tehya never seems satisfied anymore when she does feed her.

Her two front teeth have recently broken through. Perhaps it is time for her to have something more substantial than breast milk.

Placing her down on the sand, I give her a couple of shells that I found. Hopefully, they will distract her long enough for me to find some food.

She quiets down, as she picks up one of the shells and immediately places it in her mouth. The face she makes as she tastes the salt from the sea is amusing, and I smile in response. In the fire nation, I would never show such a reaction, for it would be considered a sign of weakness. Such a simple gesture, a smile, and yet it is another reminder of how different my life is, now that the only concern I have is the survival of myself and my companions.

I have a spear that I have fashioned from wood and whittled into a sharp point with my dagger. It is a very effective fishing tool, and it isn't long before there is a nice, fat bluefish on the end of it. I bring the fish over to the oven that we have crafted from baked clay, and using some dried pine needles and leaves for kindling, quickly start a fire. I use a hearth board made of two round sticks of oak and a hand spun spindle Katara had crafted from some threads from her outfit and a hard piece of wood. It is amazing to me even now how proficient I have become in this primitive method of creating fire.

And to think I thought we were wasting time when Uncle showed me how to do this, so long ago.

The fish is placed in the oven, skin and all, and the smell of cooking fish quickly fills the air. Tehya starts crying again. No doubt the smell is just exasperating her hunger. My own stomach growls, complaining.

After a few minutes, the fish is cooked, and using Katara's canteen, I pour a little fresh water over it, rapidly cooling it down. It is still hot, but I can handle it now, and after skinning the fish, i use my fingers to pull a small piece of the white meat off of it. It is still a little too hot, and I blow on it for several seconds before I offer it to Tehya, who takes it from my hand and immediately puts it in her mouth as I had known she would do. She gums it for a moment before swallowing, and, quickly realizing she has been given something good, reaches her hand out again and complains by wailing loudly. In this way, we quickly finish the fish.

Afterwards, Tehya yawns quietly. I look around the beach, but Katara still has yet to return. Typical, and yet... I thought she was making an effort. But then again, I have never been able to tell what goes through that mind of hers. Every attempt at conversation has always ended in a confrontation. We have been living here for months now together, and yet we still little more than strangers.

To my dismay, I am starting to get concerned, and by now I am more than a little irritated with her. She has no consideration for either myself or her own child, disappearing like this.

Tehya cries for a little, this time because she is tired, and I put her to bed in the shelter. And then, I sit by the fire and wait.

An hour passes and then another, and still Katara is nowhere to be seen. By now, I am really concerned, and feel I ought to go look for her, but I am hesitant to wake Tehya.

It turns out not to be necessary.

Just as I am resigned to wake the baby, and take her on a hunt for Katara, I see the woman in question walking along the beach. She pauses for a moment by the edge of the water, her hair whipping behind her, making her look almost ethereal under the light of the full moon.

"Katara?"

She appears not to hear me as I speak her name, and I approach her, slowly but cautiously. All of a sudden, she collapses into the sand and starts throwing small rocks out into the water, her chest rising and falling in great heaves. She is sobbing, I realize. She is finally letting her grief catch up with her, and I sit, silently, by her side until she stops.

She doesn't appear to notice me at first. But then she does something so sudden and unexpected that I find myself at a loss for words.

She grabs my hand; gently at first and then with more force.

"Zuko," she says, turning her tear streaked head towards mine. Her eyes are like the ocean, deep and soulful as she looks at me. I feel like there is something caught in my throat. "Touch me."

Her hand works her way up my arm, her touch is scalding. I shouldn't be here right now, she's confused, she wants a sort of comfort that I am not prepared to give, and yet I cannot bring myself to move. I know this is for all the wrong reasons, but my heart is pounding in my chest and we've been here alone for far too long. Perhaps it was inevitable, but I find myself propelled towards her, and her lips burn hotter than any fire I have ever known. She caresses the side of my face, her touch soft and supple. She does not shear away from my scar, but instead embraces it and with that simple gesture, I am undone.

We fall back onto the sand, the sounds of our passion swallowed up by the crashing of the waves against the shore. I know that we will both regret this come tomorrow, but for tonight I don't think either of us really care.

* * *

_End part VI_


	7. Requiem for Comfort

A/N: Well, what can I say... parts of this chapter were difficult to write, while other parts were fun. I can say this for sure, and you'll understand what I mean after you read this chapter. Zuko is definately a _man. _

* * *

There is a well worn path in the sand underneath my feet. It is the path that I have walked, back and forth, for the better part of an hour. I do not know what to think, what to say, or where to even begin, but last night...

Last night _everything_ changed. Everything, and yet nothing at all.

I feel no love for Zuko. In my heart of hearts, I still blame him for... for the war, for our situation, for Aang's death... although I know that is unfair and there are others who share the blame for that; myself included. But up until now, it felt good to blame Zuko for all these things.

It felt good to hate him. It felt normal. It felt _safe_. And even now, I still want to hate him. I want to go on hating him for what he has been for so very long; the enemy, the firebender, the Fire Lord even. I don't want to see him for what he has become; a companion, a provider... and, worst of all, a parent figure to my daughter.

And a better one to her than I.

This island is haunting me. The death of Aang, the isolation, the sound of the waves and the wind, the sound of Tehya's cries...

I was lonely and reached out to the only person I could.

And yet, he knew my mental state. He could have turned me away.

This too is his fault. Perhaps if I keep telling myself this, I will come to believe it.

_His fault._

And I do not understand, cannot possibly comprehend in any way, how he could still be sleeping so soundly while I've been up for two hours in a cold sweat, pacing back and forth.

Tehya wakes with a cry, and I enter the shelter to get her, trying desperately to ignore Zuko's sleeping form, knowing very well his state of undress underneath the furs. I bring Tehya outside, sit in the sand with her and feed her, wincing slightly from the pain caused by her two teeth.

I need to wean her soon. She is never satisfied anymore with what I have to give. But I am hesitant, because this is the only connection we have. I seem to be failing motherhood in every other way.

I only wish I could find some way to blame that on Zuko as well.

Tehya finishes, grumbling. There is no more milk for her this morning. She cries out, and I rock her in my arms, attempting to shush her. She is being so noisy that Zuko waking up is a distinct possibility, and for all that I can't understand how he is sleeping so soundly, I am no where near ready to face him.

Another loud cry from Tehya, and the choice – if I ever had one – is taken out of my hands.

Zuko stumbles out of the shelter with a yawn, his face unshaven, his hair scruffy and his body toned and bare to the waist. My face burns and I turn my head, suddenly at a loss for words.

"Modest now?" Zuko says, and I don't need to look at him to know that he is smirking. In fact his whole demeanor this morning is so self assured that I can't stand it anymore, and I snap.

"HOW COULD YOU???"

Zuko doesn't respond right away so I repeat the question.

"How _could_ you? What were you _thinking?_"

I am fuming. I place Tehya on the sand and stand. She immediately crawls towards Zuko who picks her up with a yawn.

"Is there anything for breakfast?"

_WHAT?_ My whole life is destroyed, and he's thinking of _FOOD_?

"You want something to _EAT? _Are you _serious???_"

"Well yes... if I have to listen to your self-righteous rant, I prefer to do it with a full stomach."

A few moments of uncomfortable silence pass between us. Tehya looks up at Zuko, her little face molded into a mask of distress. A light wind picks up around us.

I look at him with fury in my eyes, thinking to myself that if he wasn't holding my daughter that I'd probably kill him.

Now, more than ever, I miss waterbending.

Zuko prepares to go about starting the fire as if everything in the world is normal, and I've had it. I don't even care that he is still holding Tehya. I go up to him and slap him.

His reaction is immediate. Angry now, he gently places Tehya down and confronts me, his hands folded into fists.

"If I remember correctly, you were the one who came to me," He states coldly, and for a moment I can see the reflection of the fire in the gold of his eyes.

The wind is blowing all around us now, whipping sand into our hair, our eyes. Tehya starts to sniffle as she breathes in some sand by accident.

"You know I hate you," I say, seething.

"I'm not that fond of you either."

"You knew what state of mind I was in."

He doesn't respond to that, and I continue.

"You knew, and you took advantage anyway. Did it make you feel like you finally conquered the Avatar at last?" I spit furiously. I know this is unfair, yet I can't help myself. It feels so good to hate, so good to blame, and as long as I am blaming him, I am not crumbling down into the sand into a pool of despair.

"You _bitch!_" He says, furious, gripping his fists tighter, before turning away entirely. He takes several deep breaths and lets them out, and a few tense moments pass before he says anything else.

When he does finally turn back towards me, his face is grim.

"If it makes you feel better to blame me, then fine. Go ahead. I don't care. But I'm not going to allow you to bait me like this."

He turns away from me, and begins to walk towards the water.

I scream, loudly, my rage ebbing out from every cell in my body and I throw myself towards him, knocking him down into the sand. Around us, the winds have picked up violently and Tehya starts to cry. Zuko tries to push me off, and I fight him furiously, beating my fists against his chest.

It is his fault... his fault that my mother died and my father left us... his fault Sokka and Toph were captured and sent to a forced labor camp... his fault that Appa was shot down... his fault that we are here...

Suddenly, we are blown apart by a gust of powerful wind that comes out of nowhere. For a moment I am too stunned to breathe, and I catch Zuko's eyes.

He looks at me for a moment in confusion before turning to look at Tehya, who is now on the other side of the shelter, sprawled out in the sand. She is unharmed, but confused. Automatically, she raises one grubby hand towards her nose and wipes it, and I look at her in wonder.

She _sneezed_.

Like an _air bender_.

Zuko takes to his feet and looks at his hands. Within moments, they are aflame, and he looks at them in wonder.

Warily, I jump to my own feet, calling the water from the ocean and forming it into a whip.

I can bend. Zuko can bend. _Tehya_ can bend. I don't understand how, when or why, but this changes _everything_.

Zuko turns his head, sees the whip, and he too is in fighting stance.

_Good. _This... this is familiar. This...this I _know_.

Suddenly we are at it as furiously as if the past few months never occurred. I manage to slash him across the face, and the heat from his fire singes my hair. I dodge one fireball, and then another, and he manages to side-step one of my water whips. We are circling each other, throwing whatever attack comes to mind, with no thought of anything but the fight...

...until Teyha starts to cry, crawling towards and reaching for Zuko.

The fight is over as quickly as it started and we look at each other, ashamed.

Zuko bends to pick Tehya up, and I try not to notice that her cries stop as soon as she is in his arms.

"I think... I think we should build a raft," Zuko says quietly, holding Tehya closely.

Our eyes meet, mine as blue as the water and his as gold as the sun. In that moment, a fragile truce passes between us, unspoken but understood. For now, we will work together to get off this island. For now, the uneasy companionship that we have between us will continue.

_For now._

* * *

_End Part VII_

A/N: Okay, okay, don't hate me for this chapter! I just want to portray the characters as if they were real people in a real situation, and passion in a moment of weakness does not true love make; especially if the parties involved don't like each other in the first place. Besides, this story isn't about romance, it's about character evolution... anyway... think what you want, as long as you review ;).


	8. Requiem for Strife

A/N: This is a short, in-betweeny installment. One more major scene on the island before the setting changes. Oh, and major comments at the bottom :). Without further ado...

* * *

Four days have passed since we started constructing our raft, and it is nearing completion. Wood and vines are easy to harvest, when a surgically placed blast of fire accomplishes in moments what would otherwise take many hours of hacking and chopping. In a way, it all seems too _easy. _

Still, I appreciate the ability to bend in a way that I never have before. Everything is easy now, from the catching of fish, to the starting of fire. Katara has an innate ability to coax the fish out of the water with just a little bit of bending., making it seem like the three of us have eaten more in the past four days than we have in the past four months.

In harvesting the wood for the raft, we have discovered a few berry bushes along the outskirts of the forest. They would have been nice to find a few months ago. Still, the collected berries provide Tehya no end of amusement, as they taste good and smash nicely in her little fists, leaving her fingers sticky and blue.

_Tehya_. I find it hard to think too much about her right now. I don't know when it happened, but I feel as if she is more mine than Katara's, which is absolutely absurd, given who her father really was. But she is as close to me as if she were my own daughter, and the thought of parting from her soon is more painful than I care to admit. Yet I know very well that soon after we are off this island, the three of us will part ways. And very likely the next time I come across Katara and her daughter, it will be on the battlefield.

I am used to fighting with Katara. There is some normalcy in it, and I think it provides us both a measure of comfort. But the thought of Tehya growing up hating me, and perhaps one day becoming a little air bender in the rebellion leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

I can't help but think about how Katara plans to keep her safe, either. I'd like to think that she would take her daughter and go into hiding, but I am not a fool. The river of blood between her people and mine runs deep, and she is a key figure in what remains of the rebellion, having been second only to the Avatar.

The Avatar weighs heavily on my mind as well; especially now that the ability to bend has returned to us. This can no doubt mean that somewhere, someplace, the avatar has returned to us. The avatar would have been born into the cycle of water; yet both the north and south pole are occupied territories of the fire nation. With the Avatar gone from the world for so long, any births amongst the people of the water nation would have been carefully watched. Likely, some poor tot is already in custody of one of my officers... it will be interesting to see.

"We should make a sail from some of these skins," Katara says, drawing me out of my thoughts. She is pointing to the skins woven into the roof of our shelter, something I did a long time ago to provide added protection against the weather. "I mean, it's not as if we are going to need them anymore... and who knows how long we are going to be on the water before we find land, or before someone finds us... I can only move us through the water for so long before I tire out. We might have to let the wind do some of the work for us as well."

I look to her and nod in agreement. Together, we pull the roof made of twigs, skins and palm fronds down onto the sand, destroying in moments what took days to construct. With a deft hand, Katara carefully gathers the various scraps of animal skins together, along with some of the dried out palm fronds.

"I can use some of the fibers from the palms to make a cord strong enough to weave these skins together, but it will take some time. Can you watch Tehya for a bit?"

I nod, noting with a certain sense of detachment that this is the first time she has actually asked me to watch the baby instead of just leaving her with me. She is trying to take a bit more interest in the baby, now that we are to be separated soon. Again, a painful knot develops in my chest, and I reach for the berry juice covered tot, pulling her into my arms. She proceeds to use her blue stained fingers to touch my face, and when she sees that the blue transfers to me, she squeals with delight and does it again. I tolerate this with a small smile. More than anything, I shall miss her.

"Promise me that you won't learn to hate me too," I say, tossing the baby slightly into the air. She laughs and gives me an open mouth smile, her two small white teeth standing out prominently against the pink of her gums. The wind blows her wispy blond hair away from her face, and her gray eyes twinkle with mirth. She is a beautiful and delicate child, and looks more and more like her father every day.

I place her down on the sand and hold her hands as she tries to walk, noting to myself with a pain that I will miss her first true steps. It doesn't seem fair, since I have been around for so very much. How many times have I had to remind myself that she is not mine, when in my minds eye those gray eyes are sometimes replaced with gold. She is not mine, and when we part, she will go with Katara.

Suddenly Tehya stumbles, falling down into the sand. She starts to cry, and I pick her up, checking her out carefully. On her foot, there is a little bit of blood, and I frown, looking down at the sand. There is a particularly sharp rock on the ground; she must have stepped on it.

"I know that hurts," I say, trying to comfort her. "Shhh... don't cry... we'll go find Mommy."

Holding her close, I head towards the beach, where Katara is supposed to be working on the sail. Except that she isn't; the closer I get to her with the baby, the better I can see her expression as she stares at us. It is detached and somewhat sad, and not for the first time I wonder what she is thinking.

"Tehya stepped on a rock."

"I saw." Katara responds, reaching for her canteen. She opens it with two fingers, calling forth a small amount of water that she directs towards the small wound on the bottom of Tehya's foot. Within moments, the small cut is healed, and Tehya stops crying. The baby yawns, and lays her head against my chest.

"Zuk..." she calls me, and I can't stop the brief smile that breaks through before I am able to muffle it again.

Katara continues to watch us with sad eyes. A solitary tear trails down her cheek, and in an automatic reaction, I reach out to wipe it away.

"You will be a good father, Zuko," Katara says quietly, offering me a small, sad smile.

I look at her in confusion, before looking again at Tehya.

"Perhaps... some day."

Katara echoes my response with a nod.

"_Some day."_

* * *

_End Part VIII._

A/N: Yay! Character justification time ;). On Katara's behavior with her daughter: There are three reasons for this: One. The war has gone very badly for Katara and her friends, and she is removed quite a bit from the idealistic and confident girl she once was. This Katara has lost everything dear to her, and blames herself. The baby was born in a time of strife, wasn't planned, and neither Aang nor Katara were anywhere near ready for a child, or even for that type of a relationship. Deep down, Katara is embarrassed by it. Again, the war, the loss of loved ones, either by death or capture, and the constant feeling of failure created a fragile bubble around their small and vulnerable family. Katara no longer believes in herself, and you can't effectively mother another when you question every thought that passes through your own mind. So if this Katara seems OC, than that is why. I'm trying to paint a 3D living and breathing character, and it is hard to do this with a character that originates from a children's cartoon ;) (albeit an exceptional one).

Two. I wanted to establish two entirely separate mindsets for my two major characters. While Zuko finds inner strength peace, Katara feels trapped and helpless. While Zuko, who has only briefly known parental love from his mother, and who fought the Avatar all his life, is able to create a true and real bond with the offspring of his enemy, Katara, who has known the love of her family and friends all her life, and who loved Aang very much, finds herself woefully inadequate as a mother to his child. As one goes up, the other comes down. Zuko has learned compassion, Katara has grown cold. I like the contrast.

And, the last reason for Katara's estrangement with her daughter (and in my opinion, the most important one ;) ): Three. I _need_ her to be estranged from her daughter, otherwise you as the reader would never be able to swallow what happens in the next chapter. Plot point. It's all about the plot... ;)

So, anyway, I hope that explains Katara's mothering abilities – or lack thereof.

R&R, people. R&R! ;)


	9. Requeim for an Avatar

A/N: Three chapters in three days... when the muse demands, she really demands... now if only I can get her to help me out on some of my other stories :).

This chapter marks the completion of this story. But don't worry; there will soon be a sequel ;).

This chapter is split in two – first part, the POV of Katara, second part the POV of Zuko.

Slight Kataangy moment in this chapter. It is necessary. Katara needs to let go.

* * *

The waves are still and the winds have died down to almost nothing. Overhead, the sky is filled with stars, and if I concentrate, I can just make out some of the constellations that I knew so well as a child. There is the Great Polar Bear to the west, the Scorpion to the east, the Dragon to the south, and The Lady and her Child to the north.

The Lady is cradling her Child to her chest, holding her free arm out to protect her child against the dangerous creatures that share the sky with her. I find that I can't stare at her too long without feeling a heavy dose of guilt for my behavior with my own child, who is sleeping soundly, held protectively by Zuko, who has also fallen asleep.

The raft that we have created is solid and of a good size; it is big enough to allow the three of us to lie down on a pile of furs, and yet remain over a foot away from the edges. The furs that cover it are the only items that we have brought with us from the island. Water and food is not a problem, with me able to bend the salt away from the water and bring the fish to us, and Zuko's ability to flash cook the fish on the end of his dagger. Theoretically, we should be able to survive out here for quite a while. I frown to myself at the thought.

Traveling on the raft is fine, but we are in such close quarters that there is no where we can go to escape each other. The silence between us, once comfortable, has grown almost intolerable, yet I cannot bring myself to talk to Zuko in any meaningful way. After all this time, I am still unable to divorce what he is from who he is, even though he has proven time and time again that underneath it all, he is a good man.

Frowning, I yawn to myself. Such thoughts are dangerous, since there is no way we could be anything other than what we are – enemies. Not in this lifetime, anyway. If only things were different...

I lay back onto the furs and yawn once more. I am supposed to be on watch right now, but the temperate weather, the absence of wind, and the calm ripples of the waves are lulling me into a state of exhaustion. And despite my best efforts, it isn't long before I fall asleep myself.

An hour passes, maybe two, I have no way of knowing. But at some point during the night, I find myself thrust into a dream. I know it is a dream, because I am surrounded by mist, and the raft and my companions are no where to be seen. In a panic, I call out for them, but the sound of my voice only echoes in the vast emptiness of my dream world.

What's more, I can feel that I am not alone, and the thought is frightening. What started as a dream seems headed towards a nightmare, and I try to will my body into waking up, to no avail. It seems as if whatever is coming, I will have to face.

"Hello?" I call out, not expecting an answer. There is a presence around me, one comforting and yet terrifying at the same time, and unnervingly familiar. A gust of wind blows over me, gentle and searching, and I cry out again. _"What are you?"_

The gust of wind passes me by again, circling me with more and more force until I am lifted into the air. And then, before I can prepare myself for it, it lets go of me, and I am falling, body and soul into the mist. I know that I am going to hit ground at some point and I am terrified now. The mist around me clears, revealing the water beneath me. Except that I am no longer in the tropical waters surrounding the islands around Kyoshii. Underneath me, there are several large ice floats, and I realize with a start that I am looking at the waters just north of the south pole. This is the place I found Aang, so many years ago.

My Gran Gran once said that if you have a dream of falling, and you manage to hit the ground, you die in real life. That is why we always wake up way before we make contact with the earth.

As the turbulent, icy water looms closer and closer, I find myself full of regret, and yet... somehow, it seems fit that I should die here.

It seems like I am about to hit the water when the winds spin around me once more, slowing my rapid descent, and then gently depositing me on one of the ice floats. I look around in confusion, peripherally noticing that the winds are starting to take form. And when that form is revealed to me, I drop to my knees in anguish.

"_Aang..."_

The very real sensation of his hand, solid and warm, brushing across my face is more than I can bear.

"I'm so, so, so very sorry..." I cry, grabbing the hand that is offered and holding on to it as if it is my only life line. And in a way, it is.

"Shh... you have nothing to be sorry about."

"No, you don't understand... I've been a terrible mother... a horrible person..."

Aang pulls me into his arms, and I go willingly, feeling myself go limp in his embrace. I know that this is only a dream, but I miss him so much that I will take whatever I can get.

"It doesn't matter," He says soothingly, one hand working through my hair, undoing my braid. In life, he was always fond of running his fingers through my hair.

The wind picks up around us, and for just a moment I can see a hint of electric blue in Aang's gray eyes.

Aang frowns and looks at me, his expression grim.

"Katara, you must listen to me. I'm not supposed to be here, and they know that I am gone. I haven't got much time before they find me."

I turn my face towards his, as a sudden overwhelming feeling of panic crawls through me. "No, you can't, you have to stay, I can't do this anymore..."

He brushes his fingers across my lips. There is urgency in his actions and his eyes, and despite all that I am feeling and all that I want to say, I manage to hold my tongue in check.

"You need to pull yourself together. Your destiny has only just begun."

"I don't understand..."

"You need to train the next Avatar. For if he is not successful in bringing the world to peace, he will be the last..."

"No... no, I can't. Don't ask me to do this... I can't even manage to take care of myself or our daughter. Don't place this burden upon me..."

"Katara... be strong. I am sending him to you..."

I do not respond, instead I turn my head away. He gently grabs my chin with two fingers and forces me to look at him again.

"I did not say it would be easy. You will always be in danger. But it must be you... there is no one else that we can trust with this task."

I do not need to ask him who he means by 'we'.

"And what of Tehya?" I ask after a moment.

Aang smiles sadly. The mists start to rise around us again.

"She has her own destiny... with the one who needs her..."

I swallow the lump that has risen in my throat, nodding sadly. I had already come to that conclusion myself. That didn't mean that it hurt any less to hear it said.

The arms around me are fading. Aang brushes a whisper of a kiss across my lips.

"I must go now... Be strong, Katara."

I can no longer feel his touch. Aang, along with the mist, is fading into nothingness.

"I love you..." I whisper. It is something I never said in life, and saying it now lifts a heavy weight off of my heart.

The wind brushes against my cheek, bringing with it two words, and then it is gone.

"_I know."_

* * *

I wake to the sound of Tehya's laughs and the touch of her small hands, as she amuses herself by poking me in the face.

"Okay, kid, that's enough of that," I say, pulling myself into a sitting position. I place Tehya down on the raft between Katara and myself and watch as she crawls around on top of the fur. I don't know how long I've been asleep, or where we are at, but it seems to be morning. It is hard to tell, because we are surrounded by a dense fog.

"You are awake," Katara says. Her demeanor this morning is different. The underlying current of hate seems to be gone from her voice, and her expression is thoughtful. And while I appreciate the change, I can't help but be a bit wary by it. I have seen her in such a mood before, but it doesn't last for long before she spirals back into a state of depression. "I have caught us a nice blue fish for breakfast," she says, handing me the fish, already gutted and scaled and speared on top of my dagger.

I nod, and go to work cooking the fish. The smell of cooking fish attracts Tehya's full attention, and she watches me, rocking back and forth on her knees and complaining loudly.

And then I hear a sound that is so foreign and unfamiliar to me that I nearly drop our breakfast into the sea.

Katara is _laughing_. She is watching Tehya, and smiling brightly. She looks more beautiful in this moment than I have ever seen her, and as I watch her, a sudden burst of longing fills my heart.

Apparently, my thoughts show on my face, because she looks at me sadly. She raises her hand to my face, and delicately brushes her fingers down the side of my scar, sending a small shiver through me.

"You are a good man, Zuko, and you do not deserve the words that I have said to you."

The fish, completely cooked now, is almost forgotten as I look at her in astonishment. Suddenly, I do not know what to say.

"It's... it's okay."

The mist around us starts to clear, revealing the dark blue of the ocean... and, in the distance, the golden brown coastline of Kyoshii Island. And in the other direction, the steely gray of three fire nation vessels, approaching Kyoshii at speed. Katara notices them as well, and turns to me with an expression of sadness mixed with resolve.

"I wish things were different, Zuko, I really do. But you have your destiny... and I have mine."

I understand now... she is saying goodbye. Instinctively, I pick up Tehya and hold her, placing a delicate kiss on top of her head. I have grown to love the child as my own, and now that goodbye is imminent, I am reluctant to let her go.

Katara smiles at me sadly, reaching in to place a kiss on top of Tehya's head, and then, most unexpectedly, she brushes a light kiss against my own lips. She starts to pull back, but I grab her, and what started out innocent quickly turns heated. The kiss lasts several long moments before we pull away, my forehead resting against hers, the baby still between us.

"I will miss you," she says, her voice choked with unshed tears, before backing away. She smiles at me once more.

As much as it pains me to do so, I extend my arms, offering Tehya back to her. But to my surprise, Katara merely shakes her head.

"Take care of her for me. Let her know that her mother loves her very much. And above all, keep her safe..."

And, before I can protest, Katara dives off the side of the boat, disappearing into the ocean, swimming at speed towards the island of Kyoshii. I watch her for several minutes before she disappears from sight, marveling at what just happened. Tehya looks up at me quizzically, and with one arm, I hold her tight. With the other, I send up a flare into the sky. It has the desired effect; one of the fire nation ships changes course and heads towards me.

We wait for about twenty minutes before the ship catches up to us, an amazed General Xiu looking out over the stern.

"Lord Zuko? Is that you?" He asks, but before I can even answer, he is calling out to his men. "A rope... NOW... By Agni, we have found the Fire Lord!"

There is a bustle of activity, and a rope ladder is tossed over the side of the ship. Several soldiers dive off the side and swim towards the raft in order to offer assistance, but I shrug them off. One even reaches for the baby, but one look from me and he falls back.

I hold her with one arm, and as we board the ship, General Xiu watches us with a strange expression.

"It is good to have you back, my Lord. As soon as the ability to bend returned to the world, Princess Azula ordered us to Kyoshii, to launch an attack of vengeance against the rebels. They are more powerful now then ever, since our two highest profile rebel prisoners escaped during the time of the darkness."

"An attack of vengeance?"

General Xiu smiled.

"Azula believed the Kyoshii warriors were responsible for your death, and ordered us to wipe them out. She will be most happy to find out that such an action is no longer necessary, since you are obviously very much alive."

This was said with more than a hint of sarcasm, and I couldn't help but smile.

"Yes, I'm sure she will be very happy to see me," I agree, with an undertone of brevity. But all joking aside, I know that I am in for a battle upon my return, and so does the General. Fortunately for me, he was, and still remains, one of my most loyal officers.

"Have you heard word of the new Avatar?" I ask, fearing the answer.

But to my surprise, the General merely shakes his head.

"We have been watching the people at the poles very carefully, since the disappearance of bending from the world. No new babies have been born in many months. There are rumors of water benders living amongst the swamps of the former Earth kingdom. We have some soldiers checking it out, but so far, no news."

I am silent as I digest this. The General mistakes my silence as disapproval, because his next words have an apologetic undertone.

"But we will find him or her, my Lord. The new Avatar can not be hidden forever."

A moment of silence passes.

"Speaking of children... who is this?" The General asks, pointing to the baby.

"She is... she was the orphaned child of the Avatar. But now... now she is my daughter."

The General is quiet for a moment, and then nods.

"I see," He says thoughtfully. No doubt he is wondering how this will play into the turbulent political atmosphere of the Fire Nation, but I myself am not concerned.

I am the Fire Lord. I made a silent promise to protect her, and I will. And in my land, my word is law.

* * *

_End - Requiem_

A/N: So, what do you all think? Hate it? Love it? Going to be knocking down my front door with a pickaxe? Whatever you think, let me know! Review!


	10. Epilogue

Disclaimer: Avatar belongs to Nick, and this is just for (albeit twisted) fun. Me no own. You no sue.

* * *

A/N: Ack – I know I said that I would write a sequel to this... but as I sat down and listed all my major plot elements, I thought that this story would be better ended with an epilogue. 

So, here we are. Enjoy! (And yes, I am a sick, sick, sick woman... ;) )

* * *

If there is one thing I have learned in forty years of life, it is that karma has no deadlines, and fate can drop in unannounced at any moment. So it really should come to no surprise that now – after decades of war – when we are finally at the threshold of peace – that all hell decides to break loose. 

It is the Avatar, no doubt, breaking down my doors with his group of resistance fighters. Bizarrely, I'm actually quite curious about him. From what I've heard, this avatar is a charismatic, strapping young man. The people love him, as they have never loved me. Even some of my own people have turned to him, uniting under the banner of 'hope' that he carries.

Not that I can blame them. You see, they too, are weary of war. While I live my life imprisoned behind the walls of this fortress, continuing this doomed campaign – all for the elusive 'peace' that never seems to come -- my people are either dying on the battlefield, or starving and living in squalor. Our coffers are nearly empty, having been used to support the military for well over a century. The once great Fire Nation has fallen in upon itself, a victim of our own stupidity and pride.

I've long since recognized that we are in a lose-lose situation. My people will never willingly withdraw from this war and accept a loss, yet they constantly blame me for failing to bring to a close a war that can not be won.

And so it comes to no surprise that the world is crying for a change of regime.

Perhaps it would be for the best; Agni knows that my family has done nothing but bring doom down upon us all.

Therefore, I choose to stay in my reception room, calmly drinking my fire whiskey, even as my advisors are screaming at me to leave.

"What's the point?" I say to them. "My fate was determined before I was even born. I am no coward – I choose to meet it here."

They are getting closer now; I can hear screams coming from all around me in my supposed impenetrable fortress. There is a sound much like an explosion that suddenly rents the air.

I pour myself another glass of firewhiskey, downing it rapidly before smashing the glass on the cold marble floor. What do I need a glass for, when the bottle will suffice?

Absurdly, I am completely calm. I close my eyes and for a moment, I am reminded of the time when my soul was at ease; when life was simple, and the only goal was to survive another day.

I remember the warmth of the sun, the laughter of a child, and the bright blue eyes of a woman.

I give a moments thought to Tehya, the child I have raised as my own. Although the people never quite accepted her as royalty, she was still very well loved by everyone, and in some circles was referred to as 'the people's princess'. She was always a bright and happy child, with a heart as big as the sky, and always made time for everyone, no matter who they were or where they came from. And, as I have always known would be the case, she grew up to be a beautiful woman. With her fragile, lithe frame and big gray eyes, the people thought her to be quite exotic. There were many offers for her hand, by officers and noblemen alike, all of which I turned down with a smile.

Tehya was like the wind; wild and free, and I would never, ever change that about her.

As soon as I heard that the avatar was once again on the move, I sent my beautiful Tehya off to one of the islands that serve as a retreat for fire nation royalty. It is with the knowledge that she is safe, and far away from here that I am able to accept my fate so readily.

They are getting closer. I can hear the pounding of their feet. It is a matter of minutes now; perhaps seconds. My advisors are all but gone, and I am alone but for my firewhiskey bottle, which, I notice with dismay, is almost empty.

With a sigh, I down the last few drops, and smash it against the hard marble floor as well. After all, it is my palace; I should have some control over its destruction.

When the door crashes open, I am ready for it – that is, until I see the wide gray eyes and flowing black hair of the woman that stumbles into the room. In an instant, I am on my feet – the pleasant haze of the firewhiskey all but gone in less than a moment --  
and for the first time today I feel a true moment of panic.

"Tehya!" I cry, reaching for her. "Tehya, what are you doing here? You must go – quickly."

"No, father! I won't! I want to stay with you!" She insists, throwing her arms around me. She was always a stubborn girl.

The walls of the throne room crumble down around us, and I can do nothing but hold her against me in a vain attempt to protect her, as the Avatar and his entourage spill into the room.

I recognize at once the blind earth bender and the water nation warrior, before my eyes fall upon the Avatar himself.

It is with a mixed jolt of surprise and awe that I notice that he looks exactly like I would have as a young man, if I had not been so cruelly disfigured, save for a pair of piercing ice blue eyes. And in a burst of sudden realization, I laugh out loud at the irony of it.

"Let her go." The Avatar – _my son_ – orders. "Let her go, and your death will be quick."

"You will keep her safe?" I ask, knowing in my heart that he would keep his word.

"On my honor. Always." He says, and there is a softness in his eyes that takes me only a moment to comprehend.

_'She is more forbidden to you than your mother was to me.'_

"Koda! _No! _He is my father! Spare him... please!" Tehya cries, clinging to me fiercely as I attempt to let her go. Her familiarity and tone with the Avatar only confirms what I already fear.

_'I could destroy their chance for happiness with only a handful of words...'_

The Avatar draws his gaze from mine and meets Tehya's, his face softened with regret.

"Tehya, please. I'm sorry. It must be done. Your father knows it as well as I do. We have no choice in the roles we play."

"Tehya. I accept my fate. Go. Live your life. Be happy."

I turn her head to mine, wishing I could erase the anguish in her eyes, the fear in her expression. I place a small kiss on her forehead before pushing her away roughly, knocking her to the ground in the process.

In that brief moment, the moment before death was about to delivered to me, I remember a night of passion shared many years ago with a water bender whose spirit was one of the brightest I have known.

And then, I close my eyes and wait.

I hear the crackling of the air as the Avatar gathers the energy to himself. It seems right that I should die the same way as my former advisory. Except the lightning never hits me. Instead, there is a whoosh of air as Tehya places herself in between the Avatar and myself with a speed only obtainable by an airbender.

Time stands still for one awful moment as Tehya falls lifelessly to the ground before me. A keening cry rents the air, and then a wail. I am not sure which one comes from me and which one comes from the Avatar.

I rush forward, reaching for her, and am roughly shoved aside by the Avatar. For a brief moment, I want to kill him, and I probably would have if the water tribe warrior didn't grab my shoulder roughly.

"Don't – let him try," he says quietly. "My sister taught him the healing arts years ago, when she first found him on the island of Kyoshi."

I grudgingly stand back, directing a fierce look towards the Avatar, when the significance of the warrior's words hit me with a startling jolt.

_'Katara never told them that he was her son.'_

With trembling hands, the Avatar directs the healing waters into Tehya's wound.

I watch with baited breath. Every second that passes is agony. And when the Avatar gathers her up into his arms with a sob, I fall to my knees in despair.

"Please, Tehya," he mumbles, the tears falling freely from his eyes. "Please, my love..."

The Avatar turns his head towards me, his bright blue eyes wet with tears. "We are being punished... all of us..."

"For our sins..." I whisper in completion.

A moment of understanding passes between the two of us.

"No." The Avatar says quietly. "No. I am sick and tired of being fate's tool. _No_."

_The Avatar's eyes begin to glow an electric blue._

"_Koda – don't!" _

The warrior's protest falls on deaf ears as the Avatar slips into the godlike state that I have seen his predecessor use so many times before. And in my heart, I feel a sliver of hope.

This time, when he directs the water into Teyha's wound, the room is filled with a light so bright that we are all forced to avert our gaze.

And then, after several tense moments, there is a soft gasp.

"Tehya!" I cry, reaching out to her with my hand. I manage to brush the soft skin of her cheek. To my immense relief and gratefulness, her skin is warm and full of life.

Her gray eyes open slightly, meeting mine first with a tired smile, and then the Avatar's.

"Koda... promise me... don't hurt my father," she whispers briefly before her eyes close as she slips into unconsciousness. The Avatar is still holding her, although he is shaking fiercely and looks to be on the verge of losing consciousness himself. The unnatural blue fades from his eyes until only the ice remain. The nod of his head is slight, but seen by everybody before he too succumbs and falls to the floor, arms still locked around my daughter.

* * *

_Exile._

I had never even thought that would be an option. It is one, however, that is more than acceptable. It seems that the Avatar's former water bending teacher resides upon a secluded island just off the coast of Kyoshi.

And they all agree that she would be more than capable of keeping me from becoming too ambitious.

_'As if that would even be an issue,' _I think to myself as our boat approaches the small island. On the coast I can see the water bender waving at us, and I smile as I realize that for the first time in many years, I am going home.

* * *

_finis_


End file.
